


Whispers in the Dark

by vivilove



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Developing Relationship, F/M, Love, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 16:14:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8807548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivilove/pseuds/vivilove
Summary: Their whispers in the dark show Jon and Sansa's relationship over the years.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Short little Jonsa idea of them sharing moments. It skips through the years but stays chronological at least.

“Shush, Little One. You’ll wake our brother,” he whispers in her ear. She snuggles up close, her little hands fisted in his night shirt. He softly strokes her hair and says all the things he’s afraid to say during the day when others might hear him, when others might tease him for the endearments or be cross with him for saying them at all. “Sweet little sister, our dear little lady.”

She sighs against his chest, “When will the storm pass?”

“Soon, I hope.”

“What about the next time?”

“The next storm?”

She nods and asks in a whisper, “Can I come here again? When it storms? When I am afraid?”

He doesn’t answer. He just holds her closer. She is only three and she doesn’t know yet.

 

* * *

 

 

“Who told you that word?” he asks in a whisper.

“Someone,” she answers evasively. They are alone in the courtyard. It is dark and she knows she should be inside. Mother will be looking for her but he looks hurt and angry. “It’s true, isn’t it? That you’re only my half-brother and a bas-”

She doesn’t finish saying the word. The look in his eyes makes her heart ache and she will not say it.

“Aye, it’s true, Sansa.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers and she leaves him standing there. Her lady mother will be looking for her and she must go, must leave him alone. “I’m sorry,” she whispers again to the night and returns to the keep.

 

* * *

 

 

Alone in his sleeping cell he lies on his bed with Ghost by his side. It is so miserably cold here at Castle Black. He’s only been here a few days but he hates it already. It is nothing like he imagined. It is lonely and cold and he is surrounded by the worst sort of men and boys. Tyrion Lannister was right and it is nothing like he thought. He strokes his wolf’s soft white fur and whispers their names in the dark.

“Robb…Arya…Bran…Rickon…Sansa.”

He closes his eyes and refuses to cry even though he sees now that he is trapped here and his life will never amount to anything like he dreamed of when he was a younger boy.

 

* * *

 

 

Alone in Maegor’s Holdfast, she lies on her bed and cries into her pillow. The life she dreamed of came true…almost…before it became a nightmare. It’s a nightmare that follows her day and night now. She wipes her eyes and whispers her prayers into her pillow. She cannot say them aloud really. Someone might hear her but she can whisper them here in the dark, into her pillow.

She prays to the Mother to watch over her own and give her strength.

She prays to the Warrior to protect Robb and make him fierce in battle. She prays for Robb to come and save her.

She prays to the Father to watch over her two younger brothers now that their own father is dead.

She prays to the Warrior, the Mother and the Maid to guide her sister and keep her safe…if she is still alive.

She pauses in her prayers. He never followed the Seven. He always prayed to the old gods, to Father’s gods. But she cannot go to the godswood this late at night. She doubts they would let her out of her room tonight so she must make do and pray into her pillow for him.

“Watch over Jon and keep him safe,” she whispers.

 

* * *

 

 

Her cry rouses him from his uneasy slumber by the fire. She is sitting up and shaking all over when he reaches her. She arrived at Castle Black two days ago. He never imagined he would see her again but here she is. He has watched her closely the past two days, afraid that if he let her out of his sight for too long, she would disappear. They had whispered together by the fire that their dreams are a torment to them both. He knows her nightmares plague her and he has stayed close.

“Shush,” he whispers as he touches her lightly on the shoulder. “You are safe. I am here.”

She reaches for him but then pulls back. He knows she is thinking of what is proper and what is not, now that they are grown. Her hesitation does not last. She tugs at his hand and he sits down on the bed beside her. He holds her close and whispers reassurances in her ear. They are not the sweet endearments he might have said when they were little. He’s not sure she believes his words of comfort but she clings to him while he says them.

“Thank you, Jon,” she whispers into his chest before she lays back down again and he leaves her side to return to his place by the fire.

 

* * *

 

 

Being back here again is strange and comforting at once. He pushes away the anxiety of his day as he seeks sleep. He does not feel like a king. He wonders if she will come to him again. He prays she won’t. He hopes she will. He falls asleep.

He feels the bed dip as she climbs in next to him. She has shed her shift and small clothes. She nestles up against him.

"Sansa,” he whispers, “this isn’t right.”

“I don’t care,” she whispers back.

And he doesn’t care either at that moment.

 

* * *

 

 

“How long have you known?” she whispers and is angry at the tears that have sprung up in her eyes unbidden.

“Not long,” he whispers back.

They are standing on the ramparts in the dark of night. He has been back nearly a moon and she knows he must’ve learned the truth while he was away.

“You should’ve told me,” she hisses.

“I know.”

She knows she will not stay mad at him. She knows that this news is welcome in truth, at least for them. Their secret no longer need shame him or cause him to fret over his honor or her honor. She has never felt shame over their secret at all. Her honor has never been troubled one bit by it. But she wants him to be comfortable with it.

She leans into his ear and whispers, “Come to my bed tonight.”

 

* * *

 

 

The door creaks open and there is much rustling. She stirs and wakes wondering if this is real. She hears him pulling off his scabbard and his armor. She hears him tugging off his boots. Can he really be here? Or is this just wishful thinking?

“Jon?” she calls quietly.

He does not answer. She hears him shedding his clothes. She feels the bed dip as he climbs into it. He smells of sweat and smoke and blood. He is filthy and she can see his eyes are hot and hungry by the little light that still comes from the fire’s embers. He has returned and it is no dream…and the lust of battle is still upon him. He is propped above her on his elbow.

“Jon,” she says softly.

“I need you,” he whispers into her throat. He roughly pulls her shift up around her hips. She moans and spreads her legs for him. “I need you…I need you…I need you,” he whispers with every thrust. He cries out soon after and slumps down in the bed beside her.

His bloodlust is slaked and he speaks of his fears. He trembles and she holds him tightly. He tells her that he doesn’t ever want to leave her side again but that he must. Tomorrow he must return to war and leave her once more.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you, too.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Shush, Little One. You will wake your mother,” he whispers.

“I am already awake,” she says with a smile.

He holds their infant daughter so sweetly, so carefully and his smile as he gazes down upon her melts Sansa’s heart all over again.

“Sweet little babe, our dear little lady,” he whispers to his child.

The babe mewls and starts to chew her little fist.

“She’s hungry again,” she says with a smile. “Give her to me.”

He sits upon the bed and scoots himself back against the headboard. She sits between his legs and leans back into him with their child in her arms. She unbuttons her night rail and puts the babe to her breast. The darkened chamber is filled only with the soft sounds of the child sucking at her mother’s breast and their whispers to one another in the dark.


End file.
